


In Defiance of Protocol

by PFDiva



Series: Protocol AU [2]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: D/s AU, F/M, Kissing, M/M, Multi, Polyarchive rights!, Slow Burn, Timeline What Timeline, eventually, more stuff i'll tag as i go, probably, this one is p tame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:41:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23434813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PFDiva/pseuds/PFDiva
Summary: In a universe where everyone is a dom or a sub, Jon is a sub, Martin is a dom, and Sasha and Tim are switches.  This results in just a little bit of shenanigans.
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Tim Stoker, Sasha James/Jonathan Sims, Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Series: Protocol AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1685569
Comments: 87
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The assistants discuss the training room incident

It took precisely a day for the training room incident to get back to Sasha and Tim. Which was honestly longer than Martin had expected, but then again, none of the doms were going to admit what had happened, and there were only so many subs to witness and gossip about it.

"Is it true?" Sasha asked from her desk, conspiratorial, while Martin struggled to organize the notes to the case he was working on. For a moment, he had no idea what she was talking about, and looked up in abject confusion.

"True? What?"

"The training room thing."

Martin could _feel_ the smug grin stretching his face. Tim wolf-whistled.

"Elias made him angry," Martin primly pointed out, prompting a swooning sigh from Sasha and a snigger from Tim.

Sasha made a swipe in Tim's general direction, "How come you never do anything romantic like that?"

"Because if I tried it, you'd laugh yourself sick." Sasha was already giggling, lending credence to Tim's words. The thought of Tim on his knees, while appealing, was not a thought Martin was willing to take seriously. Not at work, anyway. So he giggled with Sasha about it.

When they sobered, Sasha admitted, "I was starting to get worried about you two."

"You were?" asked Martin, surprised, "Why?"

"Jon's just so hard on you," she replied, "And it only seems like he's gotten worse about it since you two got together."

Tim jumped in to add, "Also, you two, like, never spend time together?"

"We have lunch together every day!" Martin yelped.

"He does _work,_ " said Sasha, laughing, "You two don't even _look_ at each other."

Martin felt something in his chest melt a bit because Sasha didn't know. She couldn't. He didn't know what his face was doing, but Sasha and Tim had stopped laughing at him, and were giving him appraising looks now.

"He can still see I'm there with him. And, you know, he talks to himself while he works. He'd notice if I moved. Because he notices me." Martin could feel his face getting hot, his eyes on the papers in his hands as he continued. "He always notices me, he says. Even when I'm not...doing anything. He just likes to be professional at work." He did not say that he made it difficult for Jon to be professional, but when he looked up, he could tell from the fond smile on Tim's face and the smirk on Sasha's, that they got it.

"Martin." Jon's voice preceded him in by mere moments, and he spent the next 20 minutes helping Martin figure out where his documentation had gone wrong. And another 10 minutes correcting the work Martin had at his desk.

When he left, Sasha pointed at the direction he'd gone, "And _that_ doesn't bother you?"

"Course not," Martin replied, "He's just helping."

"By talking to you like you don't know anything?" Tim asked. Martin felt his shoulders creep up around his ears. Right. They still didn't know. He'd told Jon, but it was another secret that was actually a secret this time. But Tim was coming over to sit on Martin's desk, a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Whoa, whoa, it's okay. I didn't mean to…"

"No, it's not that," Martin interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't _mind_ Jon, but I...I can't tell you here."

Tim leaned in to peer into Martin's face and Martin about swallowed his tongue. Oh heavens, they were close enough to kiss, and Martin was taken. So was Tim, but he and Sasha were a bit looser about that.

Martin came out of his gay stupor a moment later to realize that Tim had been talking, and he hadn't followed a word of it. He pushed Tim back.

"It's _fine._ It really is. I promise Jon's not bullying me, I just can't explain what he _is_ doing without explaining….a bunch of stuff I don't want to get into here."

"We're not going to judge you," Sasha assured Martin, and Tim gestured at her. Martin squeezed Tim's hand on his shoulder.

"I know. I just. Don't want anyone to overhear. Tomorrow night after work. I promise."

Tim made a disgruntled noise. Friday night drinks were their tradition, and had been since before Jon and Martin got together. It was just that Tim liked to know things _now,_ rather than later. But he gave Martin's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before getting up and returning to his desk. And Martin's heart slowly returned to a _normal_ pace.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasha helps Jon out of a sticky situation and learns something new about him in the process

Jon didn't hear anything about the training room incident, even though he'd expected to. He didn't doubt it had gotten back to Sasha and Tim--they spent a day or two giving Jon appraising looks and your occasional approving smile, but they didn't _say_ anything, which was all Jon cared about.

It didn't bother him that they failed to acknowledge his loyalty to and defense of Martin. Not at all. Why should it?

But the archives suddenly got quieter for Jon. Where he was accustomed to running into others from the institute proper on a rather unpleasantly consistent basis, they were suddenly not there to give him disapproving looks or ask about Martin in ways Jon knew were calculated jabs that he couldn't parse.

He didn't realize the cause until he stumbled on Sasha fast-talking Ashley, one of the older doms. The gist he got before they noticed him was that Sasha was telling Ashley he was busy and Ashley was trying to insist that Sasha wasn't good enough. Which was ridiculous. Sasha knew plenty as much as Jon. About anything Ashley would need to know, anyway.

Sasha knew it, too. That was good.

Ashley knew protocol like the back of her hand, lived and breathed it the same way Jon did. He'd had a small crush on her, once, but he'd been overwhelmed by his crush in his first few interactions with her. He'd forgotten his protocol and she'd been so nasty about it that he'd gone out of his way to do it badly around her since.

Sasha had shifted into dom protocol to address Ashley. When she saw Jon, she offered a warm smile, "Jon, hey. Ashley was just looking for you. If I'd known you were free, I'd have let you know." She held her right hand out at him, palm down and fingers relaxed, to invite him over to her side in a friendly way.

She didn't change protocol to address him as she usually did. Which was something of a relief; Watching her change protocol within a conversation made him uncomfortable. The truth of it was that watching her change protocol made him anxious that he'd mess up the interaction, but he couldn't exactly say that. So he just said it made him uncomfortable.

The true surprise here was that she was protecting him by taking responsibility for this situation. Not just with words, but with her gestures. Because doms were always in charge of the situation, blah blah blah. Ashley thought like that.

But he knew Sasha didn't. She respected Jon's authority as a leader, and she'd never given any indication that he was less capable because he was a sub. She was just giving him an out so he didn't have to deal with Ashley by himself.

All of these thoughts whipped through Jon's head in the moments before he stepped forward to take advantage of Sasha's offer. "I was looking for Tim," he murmured in reply. He was pretty sure Tim was out investigating something, but Ashley didn't have to know that. Sasha gave an encouraging nod to let him know she understood what he was doing, then resumed speaking to Ashley.

Now, Jon didn't want to talk to Ashley. So the appropriate thing for him to do would be to put his right wrist under Sasha's hand, palm down like hers, so she could pull him close, take control of him and the conversation. It was a neutral motion, pretty professional, nothing to it. It would suggest he didn't know what was going on, but who cared what Ashley thought.

If he wanted to be friendly, he could even give Sasha his hand like they were shaking hands in greeting, and she'd just hold his hand at her side. Same difference.

But Sasha was doing something incredibly kind for Jon. She didn't have to. And he trusted her. So he grabbed her right wrist from underneath in such a way that she could grab his as well. To her credit, she didn't even glance at him in surprise or falter in her conversation. Her fingers wrapped around his wrist, warm and soft, and she drew him in.

It put his back to Ashley, but let him look in the direction he'd come from, over Sasha's shoulder. It also allowed him to ignore the rest of the conversation. He tuned it out and Sasha's thumb stroking his arm reassured him that, in this moment, he was safe.

By the time Sasha finally got Ashley to accept that maybe a woman in the archives might actually know what she was doing, she was deeply annoyed with life. The only thing that made it better was Jon's wrist in her hand, his fingers firmly grasping her own wrist telling her that he hadn't fallen asleep or gone weird or something.

She finally looked at him, and found an unfamiliar expression on his face. His face had gone soft and relaxed in a way she only saw it….when he was having lunch with Martin, interestingly enough. In spite of the fact that he obviously worked through his lunches and didn't even look at Martin for the duration (she and Tim had watched once, to see), he'd always worn this relaxed, faintly distant expression. She'd thought it was because of the work. Now she wasn't so sure.

"Jon?"

She felt him come back to attention, drawing himself up to engage with her. He blinked once and looked at her, "Yes?" Then he tensed, his brows furrowing as he glanced over his shoulder for Ashley.

"She's gone," Sasha reassured him with a laugh, "I just--"

"Oh!" he exclaimed, then started to let go of her wrist, almost flinching away. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was nervous.

She held on just a moment longer, "Hey." The gentleness in her voice got through to him and he paused, submissively dropping his gaze, his fingers returning to touch her wrist again. Lightly, without grabbing. As if he was seeking reassurance that he was still welcome. Jon Sims was just full of surprises today, wasn't he? She turned her wrist so that she could pull him closer still, pressing his arm to her ample belly. He relaxed.

"You didn't have to do that," he said, as if it were an explanation. Perhaps it was.

She gave his wrist a reassuring squeeze, "Anytime, boss." That made him smile and huff an amused noise from his nose. When he pulled away this time, it was more confident. Less 'sorry for touching you' and more 'I am ready to go now.' She let him go and stepped back to let him precede her to the archives.

"Where is Tim anyway?" asked Jon.

As if summoned, Tim came into the institute, looking windblown and a bit sunburned, with files under his arm and lunch in his hands.

"Speak of the devil and he appears," said Sasha, terribly amused. She got to see Tim do a double-take at the pair of them, and she already knew from the look on his face that she'd have so many questions to answer. She thought she was up for it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon's anxiety gets the best of him. Martin helps

Martin was very confused to stumble into a dark flat at 1am on Friday night. He was drunk enough to compose poetry, and he had a good one about Jon's hands he wanted to share. Usually Jon was sitting on the couch waiting for him with a book and a half-finished mug of tea, gone forgotten and cold. He'd pretend to be annoyed by whatever drunken flattery Martin had to lavish on him until even his composure broke into soft laughter and warm kisses.

Instead, the couch was empty, the half-finished tea was gone and Jon's book was closed. Was something wrong?

Martin made his way through the flat, carefully as quiet as he could be and aware that he wasn't nearly as quiet as he should be. He found Jon in their bed, asleep and curled up around half the blankets in bed. He was so beautiful.

Like, realistically, Martin knew that Jon was a bag of coat hangers held together with a sharp temper and a lot of anxiety, but that didn't change the fact that he was selfless and giving, understanding in his own way and so very, very lovely. Martin didn't know how he'd managed to catch Jon's attention--he didn't even know protocol very well--but he had and, a year later, here they were.

Next thing Martin knew, he was waking up with Jon in his arms. Still gorgeous. Martin's face was crusty with sleep and his mouth tasted like a cat had died in it. His head and stomach, miraculously, felt like not too much suffering. But he also needed to go to the bathroom.

Once he got that done, the next thing to do was shower and brush his teeth and when he checked the clock, it was already 9am. Well, no sense going back to sleep, so he started breakfast.

Around 11, Jon came shuffling out for breakfast and tea, but he was already upset. Sharp for no sensible reason and unhappily curled in on himself. Martin didn't press. Jon would apologize when he realized how he'd been. He still flinched when Jon said something particularly cutting to him. True, but no less hurtful for it.

There must have been something in Martin's face, because Jon finally apologized, profusely. He admitted that he was being an ass because he felt stupid for an emotional reaction he'd had. Martin accepted the apology and reassured Jon that his emotional reactions were not stupid. His behavior as a result of them, maybe. But not the reactions themselves.

That finally made Jon uncurl as he laughed a little. He looked down at his tea, "Noone invited me to Friday night drinks."

"Really?" asked Martin, surprised. Someone usually always asked Jon. Not him, because he didn't want to pressure. Generally Sasha, but sometimes Tim. "Well, there's always next week, right?"

Jon hunched in on himself, "I don't….actually want to go." Martin nodded because he knew this already. Asking Jon was a formality, but he didn't like to go out. Well, not to the pub, anyway. Some restaurants he liked, but they were always the ones that were sparsely populated. Or, they always were when Jon and Martin went.

He felt just a little annoyed to only be connecting these dots now. But now he was also confused. He leaned in, trying to catch Jon's eye. Jon refused to look.

"If you don't want to go, isn't it good noone invited you?"

"I think I made Sasha uncomfortable."

His brain briefly came to a screeching halt, because what did making Sasha uncomfortable have to do with not wanting to go out? After a moment, he caught the track Jon's brain must have taken from Sasha's discomfort resulting in a lack of invitation. Which made no sense. Sasha had never been shy about expressing her discontent or distaste about something--she would have just said if she were upset.

But then again, Martin didn't know the details.

"What happened?"

It took about 20 minutes to tease out the fact that Jon had shown Sasha some unexpected vulnerability Friday. It was something to do with Ashley and protocol that Jon was being vague about. Martin could tell there were things he was missing, but the important bit was that Sasha had helped Jon out, and now Jon was having anxiety about it.

Sasha had briefly mentioned a run-in with Ashley. Or rather, she, Tim, and Jon had come into the archives together. Once Jon was out of earshot, Tim demanded to know what happened and Sasha just said she and Jon had run into Ashley, she'd taken care of it. Then they'd sat together to eat lunch, whispering together.

He'd assumed they were flirting and speculating about what Martin had to tell them. They might have been.

"I don't think you made her uncomfortable," Martin began.

"It's fine," Jon objected, his voice going hollow and flat and stern, "I will simply apologize to her Monday morning and we'll all forget this ever happened."

And now was time to talk over Jon, because his anxiety and trouble with people were leading him to solutions that would make things worse. Martin had permission to intervene when he had information Jon didn't. He reached out and gave Jon's collar a light tug, which brought Jon up short with offense. He looked like an angry cat and Martin always had to resist the urge to giggle. Even now, when his heart hurt for Jon so much.

"You didn't upset her."

"How do _you_ know?" Jon's voice was sharp, but the question betrayed his fragile hope.

"Because I saw her afterwards. She wasn't upset. She and Tim had lunch and she was _laughing_ with him about something. They were distracted by each other all afternoon. I think because they didn't know I was going to tell them about my CV and..."

Jon's hand came up to touch Martin's wrist, his expression softening, "You didn't say you were going to tell them."

He shook his head, smiling, "It went fine. They were impressed!"

Jon's other hand came up to touch Martin's face and he leaned in, pressing his forehead to Jon's. He watched Jon's eyes fall shut, watched the tension slowly bleed from his shoulders as he listened to and believed Martin.

Good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tim has doubts and Ashley's impact is farther-reaching than she expected.

Jon always beat everybody into the archives, but Martin usually came in about the same time as Tim and Sasha, so the trio often talked together as they went to the archives. Monday morning, Martin was so obviously deep in thought that he didn't even acknowledge Sasha's greeting.

Not normal, Tim decided. Was he still worried about Friday?

The Friday night revelation that Martin had lied on his CV was exactly that, but it was also kind of impressive? He'd been muddling his way through without help for years. And he'd been, overall, pretty successful!

It went a long way to explain why Jon's detailed skewerings were a kindness rather than hurtful--Martin legitimately didn't know what he was doing. In that light, Jon wasn't being nearly as harsh as he seemed.

Either way, Tim wanted to know why Martin was so distracted, and he had to sit on Martin's desk to catch his attention. He startled, going very flushed and a little babbly. He was a dom, this was ridiculous! It was also unbearably cute, every time. Which was probably why Tim made a habit of it.

"What's with you?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. Just thinking."

"About…?" He made a go-ahead gesture to encourage Martin to keep talking.

Martin's shoulders slumped, just a little, "Jon."

Sasha piped up then to ask if Jon was okay and Tim got up and went to his desk, to look like he was doing work. Eventually, they got to the heart of it.

"I've been with him for a year, and you know it never occurred to me that he might not like pubs because they're loud?"

Tim and Sasha exchanged a brief look. _They'd_ considered the idea. But Sasha had concluded that Jon just didn't like socializing, while Tim had come down on the side of Jon didn't want to socialize With Them because of nerves or being their boss or something. He was the one who spoke up.

"I thought he just didn't want to hang out and be the boss at the bar? I mean, we invite him every week. He could have said something."

"You'd think," Martin wryly agreed, "But noone invited him last week, and--"

"Weren't you supposed to invite him?" demanded Sasha, pointing at Tim like it was his fault.

He gave her the stinkeye, because he _remembered_ what his Friday afternoon had been occupied with, "I was _distracted,_ okay? I forgot."

She had the good grace to look at least a little abashed, and blew him a kiss in apology. He did not catch it. He shook his head, then looked at Martin, "If he didn't want to go anyway, what's it matter that he wasn't invited?"

Martin looked fond, "He thought he upset Sasha." The Ashley thing, Tim immediately concluded. Martin continued, "I told him that wasn't it at all. He believed me, but it just got me thinking, you know? It's not like he doesn't like going out. He likes it well enough. Just at off hours. The sorts of hours when nobody's there, places people don't go."

"He definitely didn't upset me," Sasha confirmed, "It was….actually kind of nice? He's such a hotheaded guy, you forget he's a sub sometimes? You like to be trusted, you know?"

Martin sighed, "Yeah. Yeah, that's true." Then he perked up, "Wait, what actually _happened?_ He was really vague about it."

"Nothing really special," she hedged, because they were at work and Martin would turn colors if they started waxing horny about Jon. Who was probably some flavor of not interested in sex as a general whole. "It was just. Jon. Properly acting like a sub. At work."

Martin seemed to consider it a moment, then nodded acknowledgement. Jon went out of his way to avoid being seen or treated like a sub at work. More nerves probably. It _meant_ something that he'd trusted Sasha like that. What, Tim still didn't know, but that didn't cover the issue that Jon wanted to come out with them and wouldn't if they went to a pub.

"Back to the topic at hand," said Tim, "If we went out someplace that _wasn't_ loud and crowded, you think Jon would come?"

The surprise on Martin's face suggested that the answer was a yes and he continued, "There's that one curry place up the road--they've got good beers? No fruity pink shots, but we can't have everything."

Martin laughed. He had a great, infectious sort of laugh when he wasn't thinking about it. And Tim was forever getting on Martin's case about the pink shots. They _were_ good, but it was fun to tease Martin about them. It always made him laugh. He nodded, looking almost hopeful for once. "I can ask him today, see what he thinks?" Sasha and Tim cheered, which made him laugh again. _Awesome._

By lunch, Martin had assured them both that Jon was willing to join, but the phrasing made Tim nervous. It took a couple days of atypical dithering before he finally went to Jon's office, pushing the partially-open door wider to poke his head in.

"Boss? You got a moment?"

Jon looked up with a scowl that made him want to be an asshole. But it immediately shifted into something slightly less hostile, and he gestured Tim in.

"Yes, I suppose? What do you need?"

He closed the door behind himself as he came in, taking a seat in one of the chairs meant for sitting in. Now that he was in here, he realized he hadn't really thought about how he was going to ask this. Jon didn't exactly look pleased at the interruption.

"So, about Friday," Tim began.

"The curry place near here, after work, right?" Jon confirmed and Tim nodded his agreement.

"Yes, yes, that's it exactly. But that's not what I'm here about."

Jon folded his hands on his desk with a sigh, "I understand that Friday nights are usually the three of you at the pub. I didn't ask Martin to suggest the change. If you don't want to change things, you really don't have to."

He found his hand over both of Jon's before he could stop himself, "Martin didn't suggest the change--that was me."

Jon's hands moved under his, startled before Jon paused to search his face, " _You_ did?"

"Sasha and I have been talking about it for a while, actually." He gave Jon's hands a reassuring squeeze, and felt them relax a little. "If we'd known _why_ you weren't coming, we'd have said something sooner. Honest. I was just worried you were agreeing because Martin asked. You and him are wrapped around each other so tight and I just wanted to give you an out."

He didn't know what to make of the expression on Jon's face: vulnerable, hopeful, uncertain. Then Jon looked away, visibly embarrassed.

"And here I thought you were going to warn me off Sasha."

"Because of Ashley?" Jon nodded and Tim again refrained from expressing his thoughts about the incident in question. The thought of Jon, local menace, acting like a trusting, well-behaved sub? It was both incredibly bizarre and direly arousing. No, he kept those thoughts to himself.

Instead, he just shook his head and chuckled, "No. She's really good at protocol and so are you. If she can use it to keep assholes off your back, I say she's right to go for it."

Jon's fingers under Tim's hand shifted in an approximation of squeezing Tim's back, and he gave another reassuring squeeze before letting go, "Anyway, she likes getting practice in and gods know I'm no good at keeping everything in order."

Jon gave Tim an appraising look, "Is that why you can't stick to one set of protocol?"

"That too," teased Tim, "Also, you get this vein in your head, right about--" he reached out to poke Jon in the temple, laughing when Jon flailed his finger away. But at the end of it, Jon was smiling and looked more relaxed than Tim had seen in a while. The promotion hadn't done anything good for poor Jon.

Jon sobered after a moment, picking up a pen to twiddle, "You all really want to hang out after work with your boss?"

"Well, I hear Martin might have a thing for you--" Jon ducked his head, a warm smile stretching his face, "--but yeah. You used to have fun. And laugh. We're worried about you. And sometimes, don't tell anybody, but you're very occasionally nice to be around."

"Unlike some people," Jon dryly replied, "Who are always obnoxious."

"I know, Sasha's just the worst, isn't she?"

That got Jon and he broke, sudden and unexpected giggling that ended on a full-throated laugh. And he suddenly remembered that Jon was a good goddamned-looking man. Fuck, no wonder Martin was into him.

By the time Jon wound down, Tim was on his feet, giving Jon's shoulder a reassuring pat. Jon's hand came up to squeeze his and Tim direly wanted to lean down for a kiss. God, he was queer. But Jon hadn't agreed to that, so instead, he smiled.

"Looking forward to Friday."

"Me, too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have slightly forgotten this fic. In my defense, there was a pandemic. I have more chapters after this one written, and I'm TRYING to make this fic go places, but I don't think it will. Or if it does, very slowly. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've started posting before I was finished writing it.

Immediately upon arrival at the curry place, Jon claimed a booth for the quartet, sitting against the wall with his coat between him and it like a bulwark. To Sasha's surprise, Martin offered Jon his own coat, like this was normal, and that got added to the bulwark as well.

She experimentally asked if there was room for her purse and coat, and the response from Jon was positive and just a little too eager. He seemed to realize it once he had her things in hand, and immediately began fussing with the arrangement of coats next to him, meticulously folding and arranging them according to some criteria that made sense only to him. It was honestly kind of cute, and from the look Tim gave her, he seemed to agree. So, of course, he had to push things.

"Hey Jon," he called, taking off his jacket and balling it up as if to throw it.

Martin giggled while Jon muttered an annoyed reply. When Tim called out again, he looked up, then sputtered in annoyance, "Don't throw it! Just give it here!" He stretched across the table to snatch it from Tim, shaking it out and folding it up and like that, the nerves dissolved.

Soon they were all laughing and teasing each other like old friends. The promotion hadn't been good for Jon at all, honestly. He hadn't really been qualified, but the pay probably made it worth it in spite of things. Sasha had resolved to help him out, once she'd worked through her initial sour feelings on the matter. It wasn't _his_ fault Elias was an ass.

Still, Jon was awful quiet while the rest of them talked. Not that he said nothing, just that he fell silent more than he spoke up, which wasn't typical for him. She didn't want him to feel left out. She slid her right hand across the table into his line of sight, palm down and fingers splayed flat to demand his attention. It was a little imperative, but they were friends and she already knew he was willing to trust her as a dom.

He watched her hand moving, but didn't respond until her fingers touched his glass. Then he placed both hands on the table before him, flat like her own, confidently lifting his eyes to meet her own. She gave him a smile and he playfully tapped his fingers, his gaze softening.

She started to withdraw her hand, but both of his slid forward, pushing his glass towards her a little as she moved hers back. She paused, curious, and walked her fingers back towards him. His fingers walked back in response, leaving the glass behind, and she couldn't help but giggle.

She kept walking her fingers forward until they met Jon's glass, gently pushing it forward before sliding her hand back. Jon's fingers walked forwards, pushing the glass back her way, and closer to her this time. She didn't think he was offering her his glass, but putting it in her space suggested an intimacy and a desire to be close, especially combined with his pleased little smirk.

She turned her hand palm up on the table, her fingers wiggling invitingly and he rolled his eyes, briefly glancing at Tim and Martin. Who were arguing about boxer companies. Apparently Martin had a preference and Tim disagreed. Sasha arched a brow at Jon and wiggled her fingers again.

He turned up his nose, but his fingers crept across the table again. The left one this time, though the right was also "alert" as the left poked at her fingers, then skittered back when they wiggled. His fingers poked at hers three times, and she could tell Jon was gearing up for something when Tim spoke up.

"Looks like you two are having fun." She looked up to find Tim and Martin watching them--Tim amused, Martin softly fond.

"I could teach you," Jon taunted, his hands pouncing hers and making her cackle with delight.

Tim made a noise of faux-offense and looked at Martin, "Your sub's an asshole, pick me instead."

"You're also an asshole and Jon's better-looking anyway."

Tim made another faux-offended noise, leaning against Sasha and giving her big dramatic sad eyes, "Sashaaaa, Martin's _bullying_ me!"

"Well, tell him your safe word and make a night of it."

Martin froze and went flushed, but Jon immediately burst into laughter. Next thing she knew, they were discussing BDSM. She hadn't realized Jon had any sort of experience with it. Turned out he had rather a lot. And kinks, too! Bondage and voyeurism seemed to be the big ones. Because Jon was asexual. As she'd suspected. The conversation flowed easily, and Sasha learned more about Jon in those hours than she'd learned in the last year.

The biggest surprise was that Jon _wasn't_ actually opposed to open relationships and polyamory. Part of it was definitely low self-esteem due to being ace. But it turned out he thought Martin was monogamous.

Martin avoided her gaze as she loudly refrained from saying 'I told you so.' She'd been insisting Martin just _ask_ Jon for months. But nooo, Martin had to be stubborn. He'd been trying to protect Jon, keep from feeling pressured, so she _got_ it? But also.

Then something seemed to occur to Jon, and he gestured at Tim and Sasha, "Aren't you two poly also?"

That was about when the restaurant began closing.


	6. Chapter 6

Tim threw his arms around both Jon and Martin's shoulders as they all left the restaurant, far earlier than they ever left the pub. He grinned into Jon's face like an asshole while Jon made expressive faces of disgust and disdain. He didn't push Tim away or verbalize any objection, so he decided Jon was just making fun.

"What are you lovebirds up to after this?"

"Timothy Stoker!" exclaimed Sasha, feigning scandalized, "That is _none_ of your business!" God, he loved her.

Jon immediately began sputtering that it wasn't anything _like_ that and Tim playfully waggled his eyebrows, "Oh, but it _could_ be." Jon planted his hand on Tim's face, pushing it Martin's way. Martin looked thoughtful and a bit concerned, nervously chewing his lip, which caused Tim to sober a bit.

"Martin?" He could hear Jon asking Sasha if he was always like this, but Martin didn't respond. Tim gave him a little jostle to catch his attention, and he shook his head. Tim let go of Jon and was about to let go of Martin as well, when the ground suddenly disappeared under his foot. He fell hard, unintentionally dragging Martin down with him. That was a painful experience. Martin was _not_ a small man and all of his weight landed on Tim's chest, leaving him dazed and breathless a moment.

Martin immediately rolled off, babbling apologies that Tim waved off until he could speak enough to say it was his own damned fault for not noticing the curb. He sat up, with Martin's help, but had to pause and lean against Martin's shoulder as he realized he'd banged his hip painfully hard. Martin was warm and smelled good, easily supporting his weight. He looked up and found Martin's face mere inches from his own.

Tim hadn't made out with Martin since Martin and Jon got together, but damned if he didn't want to. He and Sasha had been trying to get Martin to find out how Jon felt about open relationships for literal months for a lot of reasons. One of those reasons was that Tim really wanted to kiss Martin again. This close now, Tim could see Martin's eyes search his face, dip down to his mouth. He moistened his lips, and he felt Martin subtly shift into him.

The moment stretched, taffy-long and sweet. He leaned into Martin, oh-so-slowly. For better or worse, a burst of chatter came from down the street. Martin sprung away from Tim like he'd been burned, immediately climbing to his feet. Tim groaned and got up as well to find Jon giving him and Martin both a piercing look. Tim knew he was in trouble when he leered and Jon didn't blush.

Martin babbled his way over to Jon, bustling him away from Tim while Sasha slipped her hand into Tim's, "You okay?"

"Little sore. Also my pride has suffered a great blow. Did you see my failure?"

"Hornball," she laughed, nudging her shoulder into his. He nudged her back and they slowly followed Jon and Martin. It was their habit to walk Martin home after drinks so he wouldn't be alone, and one that apparently persisted even with Jon around. And in the absence of drunkenness. Martin's nervous babble seemed to be dying down into normal conversation, and Tim could hear the low tones of Jon's voice, even at this distance.

"What do you think they're talking about?" asked Tim, caressing Sasha's hand with his thumb.

"Gardening." He snorted. "Probably not you. Jon would be more upset, don't you think?"

Jon's voice turned stern just then and Sasha pressed her nose into Tim's shoulder, "Whoops. Spoke too soon." He laughed and kissed her hair. She looked up at him, and the love in her face was too much. He couldn't help but steal a kiss. She giggled and stole one back, the pair of them smooching between steps. They were in no hurry.

"Really?" asked Martin, the surprise in his voice causing it to carry.

Jon stopped to look up at Martin, "Really. You want to, don't you?"

Martin got closer to Jon, his lips almost against Jon's ear to whisper something. Whatever it was made Jon shake his head in a sort of fond exasperation. "Of _course_ I do."

Martin paused a moment, searching Jon's face. Then he turned to look back just as Tim and Sasha reached them. Faster than he'd expected, Martin closed the distance. The determination on his face made Tim's stomach swoop with desire.

"Jon says I should kiss you."


	7. Chapter 7

Sasha squeezed Tim's hand. He glanced at her to see what her face was doing, but she was looking past Martin. So Tim did as well, pointedly leaning around Martin to do it.

Jon stood behind Martin, arms folded, his face doing something Tim couldn't interpret. He seemed to come to a decision when he noticed them staring and came over to join them.

"I didn't say it like _that._ "

Tim was willing to play this game, and tucked Sasha's hand into the crook of his arm to give Jon an asshole grin, "Yeah?"

Jon rolled his eyes with his whole head, "I said that if he wanted to come to some sort of...arrangement with you, I wouldn't be opposed."

"And also that I should kiss you," Martin insisted. Jon looked a little mutinous, but after a moment, he sighed and nodded.

"And also that Martin should kiss you."

"Here?" teased Tim, "In the middle of the street? I'm not that kind of boy, you know."

Both men began to sputter, and after teasing them a little more, Tim promised to text Martin later to discuss. Which was about when Jon finally asked what Tim and Sasha were doing still following them.

Once they'd seen Jon and Martin to their station and were off to a club, Sasha nudged Tim.

"I want to tie Jon up sometime."

"That sounds like you," he teased, and she laughed. He patted her hand, still tucked in the crook of his arm, "I'll let you know me and Martin's timing, so we can coordinate."

"Also, you have to help me with my makeup next week."

"I will do it for you _Monday,_ " Tim protested, because protocol makeup was fiddly and precise and he hated it a lot. "I will _not_ be bribed by blowjobs, kayaking trips, or visits with my brother!"

Sasha leaned up against his shoulder to give him big sad eyes, "But your brother likes me a lot…"

"He likes everybody--he's got terrible taste like that."

She laughed her concession, "Monday only, then. He'll be looking for it afterwards and I can wear bangles in the right colors."

"You sure he'll think it's for him?"

Sasha gave Tim an offended look, "I'm not a _beginner,_ you know! I'll do orange and yellow in addition to the red. So he'll know I'm not just flirting with you. On my _left_ wrist. He's the only sub in the archives. He'll get it. If he doesn't, I'll buy him flowers."

"Maybe get him the flowers Monday, so there's no mystery?"

She hummed her agreement.


	8. Chapter 8

Jon's Monday morning was interrupted by a knock on his office door. A quick glance at the clock told him it was around 8, which was when Martin, Sasha, and Tim usually began their shifts. He assumed it had to be Martin, letting him know he'd forgotten something at home, and called out, "Come in!"

It was Sasha. Carrying a bouquet of sunset flowers: red, orange, yellow. She didn't usually wear makeup, but today, she had on vivid eyeshadow in the same shades as the bouquet, her outfit muted.

He felt his face heat and crossed his arms, left hand out. He felt like he was being made fun of, and he didn't like it, "How can I help you, Sasha?"

She held the bouquet up with both hands, slightly tipped towards the right side of her face, "I brought these for you. I didn't want there to be any misunderstanding." He immediately lifted his left hand to his chest, his fingers idly tapping. He gestured her in with his right hand and she beamed, moving wide around the office to stand across his desk from him, leaving him an open lane to the door.

"I don't have anything blue on me," he admitted, and she made a dismissive gesture with her left hand.

"I didn't expect you to. You couldn't have expected a lady to make an overture."

He nodded, then held out his hands for the flowers, which she willingly handed over. "And I have to talk to Martin first."

She didn't look concerned. "Of course."

He tipped the flowers into his chest, still holding them with both hands, "This is going to get complicated, what with Martin and Tim."

"Is that a no?"

Jon considered his bouquet, fussing with it to distract himself and think.

"I have to talk to Martin first," he firmly repeated himself, hiding behind his bouquet.

Sasha grinned then, holding her right hand out across the desk, palm down in invitation. He lifted his own right hand, palm up, to clasp her wrist in response.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was going to be more to this story, but I could never get it to work, and then Covid happened. This is what I've got, and it's done enough, so I'm moving on to OTHER stuff. What? I dunno. But I'm done with thinking about this story.


End file.
